eight seconds left in overtime (you're on my mind)
by MedusaOfTheSpecies
Summary: In which Lily remembers nothing from before, but there is a future worth fighting for. :: Jily, Amnesia!au.


Written for Jilytober (Week one: Amnesia!au), Around the World (Lebanon: (trope) Love at first sight), Gobstones (White Stone: Guilt, (pairing) JamesLily, (word) dire, (action) reading the newspaper), Song Lyrics Challenge ("I'm in too deep."), Showtime (word: Saved) and Crystals and Gobstones (Turquoise: Write about unwavering loyalty or protection for another person).

 **o.O.o**

There are few things Lily remembers from before—a flash of black hair, the rush of the wind ruffling her hair, a chuckle she's sure isn't hers and then…

Then, there's is the sound of brakes a few seconds too late, a scream that isn't hers either, and then she's fading away, slipping into oblivion as the lights claim her.

She wakes up in the Saint Mungo's hospital, which reeks of disinfectant and the bitter smell of death.

Following that, there's only an after.

 **o.O.o**

"Honey, the nurse repeats, "Honey, please look at me."

Lily tries but it's so hard; her head is pounding so hard she thinks it could fall off any minute and the nurse tends to glow whenever she tilts her head.

"Definitely a concussion," one nurse whispers to the other, who notes it down. Lily tries to recall what the word means but the memory slips out of her reach like sand.

"What am I doing here?" Lily manages sluggishly and the nurse brightens a little, leaning down to be closer to her eye level.

"Do you remember your name, honey?"

Lily thinks. She should know it, everyone knows their name, but she… she doesn't. It's like a blank space and she forces herself, but there's nothing.

"I have no idea," Lily whispers in defeat and tries to muffle her sobs.

 **o.O.o**

After that, she learns about herself the way a child learns the alphabet, all eager and young.

Her name is Lily Evans. She's eighteen, about to be nineteen as soon as summer comes around. She's 5'4, an orphan, and has no living family that she's close to.

The last part hits her hard. If she can't remember, if she never gets her memories back—she'll never know them. She'll never get the chance because it's already gone.

"There's more," the nurse says cautiously and Lily braces herself. This can't get any worse.

"What is it?"

"You were engaged," the nurse says, stroking Lily's hair the way you comfort a child. "Your wedding was going to be this summer."

A wedding… that means… no, it can't be. She doesn't have a husband or a wedding, except she apparently does and the sinking feeling in her gut reminds her of just how dire the situation is.

 **o.O.o**

Her husband is handsome. That's the first thing Lily notices when he enters the room. His hair is messy, he has purple circles under his eyes from lack of sleep (Lily forces down the guilt with the thought it may be because of her), and he looks half-awake, but his eyes light up when he sees her and it makes him more attractive than she could have ever imagined.

"Lils," he whispers hungrily, soaking her in with his loving gaze.

Lily tries for a smile but it comes off as more as a grimace. She was hoping for something, at least a spark of recognition, but there's nothing. He may as well be a stranger if it wasn't for the way he clearly loves her.

"You don't remember me," he whispers dejectedly and Lily wants to cry. They clearly wanted the same thing.

Still, he forces a smile and Lily thinks her fiancé is a better person than she'll ever be. In his position, she wouldn't have been able to be this kind. She would have been too bitter over the things she'd have lost.

"James Potter," Lily tries. His name feels foreign on her tongue.

"Just James," he corrects automatically, his mouth curving into a nostalgic smile. Lily can't help but wonder how many times they've had this conversation before.

It makes her want to cry. She's so angry, white-hot rage blazing through her veins. She wants to remember every detail, every person's face.

"I don't remember anything. I don't even know how we met." Her smile is bitter. "I understand if you want nothing to do with me."

He looks at her like she's insane and she wonders if she is, Lily Evans-Potter who has nothing to her name.

James grabs her hand. "I'll tell you," he promises, his eyes meeting hers as if to signify something binding. "I can't make you remember but I'll try. Forever. I won't give up on you, Lils."

She's not sure he can keep his promise, but they both look so vulnerable right now, huddled over a hospital bed, that she lets him keep thinking that way.

"How did we meet?" She asks instead. His hand is warm on hers.

"We were eleven, on the way to Hogwarts," he says fondly, his smile growing. "But we didn't get together until far later. I had a lot of growing up to do."

As he talks, she watches. He's a passionate talker, all hand waves and imitation and the story he weaves is a hopeful one, of a boy who changed and a girl who never stopped fighting.

Lily hopes her past self would be proud of the kind of person she is today.

o.O.o

Her next visitor is unexpected. Sure, James told her about Sirius Black, or 'Padfoot', but she assumed meeting him would be something that came later.

Instead though, she wakes up the sight of somebody watching her from the visiting chair. He has black hair too, and aristocratic features, but it's clearly not James. James's smile is never this sharp.

"Hello," she says uncomfortably. "Sirius, right?"

The man beside her winces. "They weren't kidding when they said you didn't remember anything."

Lily shrugs tiredly, shifting around to get more comfortable. "No memories so far," she admits. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my favourite girl, of course," he says instantly, a mischievous grin splitting his face instead of the previous smirk, and Lily knows without a doubt that he's telling the truth. "Moony and Wormtail couldn't make it."

Lily doesn't recognize those names, but she recognizes something desperate lurking in Sirius's eyes. That's when it dawns on her: she matters to him, and that knowledge only makes her more determined.

"How did we become friends?" She asks, reaching over to mess up his hair on instinct. She feels likes she's done this a million times already.

"Oi!" He complains, already smoothing it down, but he's still smiling and Lily thinks maybe, just maybe, she can figure this all out.

 **o.O.o**

"You're leaving today, Ms. Potter," the nurse says and Lily smiles. The nurses have all been kind and welcoming, but she is tired of hospital food. She misses free air like nothing else.

"When?"

"As soon as your husband comes to get you." The nurse's smile is amused. "I'm sure you won't be missing this place."

"I will," Lily promises, but the sentiment is interrupted by the sight of James coming into the wing with a lopsided grin and the most balloons she's ever seen in her life.

"Hey Lils," he says sheepishly. "I didn't know which ones you'd want, so I got all of them. The easiest way to decide."

Lily laughs, reaching over to grab one that's the same colour as her eyes. "I love them." She can't stop smiling like a child on Christmas morning. "Thank you, James."

 **o.O.o**

She's not prepared to go back to their house. It's a beautiful neighbourhood, a wonderful mix of Muggle and magical people, and she feels absolutely nothing.

"Nothing?" James asks, his expression crestfallen. Lily doesn't want to disappoint him—not after he's been so perfect to her—but he knows without her saying a word.

He doesn't say anything after that, just puts his hand on the small of her back and escorts her in.

"What do you want to see first? I have a tour prepared," He jokes, hands in his pockets.

"Everything," Lily jokes back, imitating his posture. He laughs, as clear as bells on a summer day, and she feels something blossoming in their shared happiness.

 **o.O.o**

It's not easy being back. After the initial tour, where there is nothing but smiles and excitement, it all fades a little.

She feels like a stranger, like a guest, like someone who's welcome but who doesn't belong.

"Can we get rid of that one?" Lily asks shyly, pointing to a painting hanging on the wall. It's pretentious and garnish and she hates looking at it.

"That was your favourite," James says quietly. "But we can if you want."

She nods a little too quickly and his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes for the rest of the day.

 **o.O.o**

It gets worse after that. She likes James—his charm, his kindness, the way he lights up when he sees her like he can't believe his luck—but she feels suffocated in this house.

It takes her two weeks to reorganize her bedroom—they don't sleep in the same bed after, but she can tell he wants to, but she's not ready.

Every time she changes anything: the layout of the dishes, the hallway closet, when she buys new plants for the kitchen counter, James tries to approve but she's stealing evidence of his past and it makes her feel like an imposter.

"I can't do this right now," Lily sobs to him one day, collapsing on the kitchen floor after she spent the last hour trying to find cups only from him to find them within a second. He's whistling before, telling a story with names she doesn't recognize, and she's crying, screaming—

And then she's apparating.

 **o.O.o**

The area she lands in is a Muggle one. She's not sure how she knows it, but the girl she used to be must have been familiar with it, because the moment her feet touch the floor, she feels like she's returning.

In front of her, a beyond neat house stands. The flowers are cut precisely, no strand of grass grows a centimetre higher than another, and the label above the house says "number four Privet Drive" in a precise cursive.

A part of her longs to go and ring the doorbell, but there's another part of her that is filled with dread at the idea of stepping on that porch.

She leaves and doesn't look back.

 **o.O.o**

A pond is next on her trip. A baby swan swims alongside her as she walks the trail. Nearby, the sound of children laughing reaches her, filling her with a faint memory of sticky hands from ice cream and summer nights.

"I'm sorry," James says quietly and Lily doesn't even turn. She's not surprised he found her even while she was trying to run. He has the look of a person who'd follow the people he loved to hell.

"It's not you," she says. A girl walks by with her boyfriend, looking at him like he's the center of her world.

James shrugs and leans over to kiss her forehead in an unconsciously fond motion. "It's not you either."

Lily half-turns to look at him. He looks golden under the sun's last dying rays.

"I can't stay in that house today," she warns.

James cocks his head to the side, staring at her. She wonders what he sees—a broken girl? A painful reminder of what used to be? A new hope?

She prays it's the last one.

"Let's get out then," he says and she knows she won't be leaving him.

It's something engraved in their bones, she muses, like the way the moon and the sun always follow each other. He'd die for her and as much as she tries to deny it, considering she's known him for weeks, she'd do the same for him.

If she was an optimist, she'd say they were soulmates, but she's Lily and she's a realist, and she knows they're just two scarred kids whose broken edges fit together.

o.O.o

"Morning," James says as she slips out of the guest room to join him for breakfast, putting down the newspaper he was reading before he heard her approach. They haven't slept in the same bed yet, neither of them is ready.

"Morning," Lily calls back, surveying the kitchen in an attempt to figure out what she wants to eat. There's a staggering amount of cereal, leftover oatmeal, and waffle mix.

Lily instantly decides on the last one—comfort food is the perfect thing in the morning. "Do we have all the ingredients to make waffles?"

James grins at her, ruffling her curls until she mock-scowls at him. "I already made some. I bought maple syrup—you said you were craving some, right?"

"Yes," Lily says, reaching over to hug James. They're are still not back at the same place they used to be, but they're trying. Someday, she'll be ready for that ring again, and she'll plan another summertime wedding. Someday, they'll live out their happily-ever-after in each other's arm.

For now though, James grins at her from the kitchen table, morning sunlight streaming in and illuminating his syrup-covered face, and she knows she's going to be okay as long as they remain by each other's sides.


End file.
